A beautiful day with the buoyancy of a bird.

Oh Jesus God we did belong to each other. He was mine.

I've never worked for a newspaper. I've had some very bad reviews in newspapers.

Are the dead as lonesome as the living?

If you weren't here, if you could be anywhere you wanted to be, doing anything you wanted to do, where would you be and what would you be doing?

There’s got to be something wrong with us. To do what we did.

She was a triumph over ugliness, so often more beguiling than real beauty, if only because it contains paradox. In this case, as opposed to the scrupulous method of good taste and scientific grooming, the trick had been worked by exaggerating defects; she'd made them ornamental by admitting them boldly.